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Saturday, April 19, 2008

The Boyfriend Chronicles: #2

My mother warned me about him. "He's an older man," and "You shouldn't date a senior," I heard. But I didn't listen. He seemed like Mr. Wonderful. Oh to be fourteen, and stupid again...

He was the senior drum major in the marching band. Not exactly Mr. Popular. As a rookie, I knew I had a lot to learn in the band, and no one was making it easy for me. The drilling, the music, the constant riding from upperclassmen wore me out. But they all seemed to respect the "man" with the whistle. He was seventeen and had all the power. I looked up to him. I wanted to be him. High on a pedestal, I placed my prize.

He and I soon became two geeks in a pod. I played all the right tricks: sitting by him, casually walking by his classroom doors, being generally girly. When it was cold at our night practices, I'd ask him to warm up my hands with his. I'd even try to have lunch with some of his friends so he couldn't avoid me. Creepy huh?

Well, Mom warned me. She tried to tell me not to date him. You know that annoying part about mothers being right? I refused to listen. He asked me out to our winter formal dance, and I gladly accepted. From January through April, we were either side-by-side at school or on the phone at night. How he ever got anything done, I'll never know.

After about a month, though, things felt weird. His hands became cold, and his kisses made me feel icky. I maintain to this day that I never kissed him back. One night, probably in early March at an after-school function on campus, we snuck out into the hallway between the band room and the auditorium. He shoved me against a wall and started kissing me. Surprised, I reacted the only way I knew how: Right knee, meet Mr. Groin. That should have been a clue, but I was still enamored with his position of power in the band. Because I'm an idiot.

One day in April, the band was outside practicing for a parade. We were stopped in the middle of a quiet side street. He was shouting orders and blowing his whistle as if his lungs would burst if he didn't make noise. One girl in my section dared to defy him. Without so much as a sound, he stormed over to her with long, powerful steps. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her until she screamed. While I agreed that the girl had been out of line, his behavior toward her was my awakening.

It took me two weeks to write a Dear John letter to him and finally end our silly relationship. I've only spoken to him once since. That was once too many. I am not always bright when it comes to picking great guys, but I will not tolerate someone who thinks it's okay to pin sweet, innocent girls to the wall or shake someone for disobeying. Unacceptable.

Some people would say that I regret dating him. I don't. I learned two very important lessons from that time in my life:

1. It takes three months for a person to tell you all of their lies. It takes three more months for you to figure out who they really are. (à la Fools Rush In)

2. Just because they have all the power and intelligence, it doesn't mean they'll be nice.

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